


A Very Specific Set Of Circumstances

by serablossom



Category: Big Hero 6
Genre: Cheesy Lines, F/M, Rainy Days, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, how punny of you, soulmate aus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:48:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7545635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serablossom/pseuds/serablossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>because the universe (probably) went through great lengths for you two to meet like this – Tadashi/Reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Specific Set Of Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> prompt(s): the prompt “the first words your true love(s) will say to you are tattooed on you and” and some story my friend told me she saw on tumblr
> 
> notes (1): i’m supposed to be writing a poem to make into a song but nope i’m writing this and i am a horrible person  
> notes (2): i’ve always wanted to do a soulmate!au… it seems fun and hey i’m a sucker for these things all soulmate-y and au-y and whatnot  
> notes (3): speaking of which, if these soul tattoo things existed in real life, my soulmate would have FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCKY on their wrist because I am a teenager with a horrible sailor mouth
> 
> [edited: 23/08/2016 - i have very embarrassing typos this is why i should have kai edit for me -_-]

You know that everyone is staring at you.

To be precise, they’re scrutinizing you who is all waterlogged and sneezing and muttering curses beneath your breath. Not even the other SFIT students in the bus are as wet as you. The one mother with little ones had given you a wide berth on the bus after she had enough of your whispered swearing, moving further up the bus to sit behind the driver. Though her kids still stare at you, very wide-eyed and curious. _Why are you all wet_ , asks the slight tilt of several of their heads.

 _Look out the window, kiddo. It’s_ raining _for God’s_ sake, the meaner side of you snorts.

(Though, really, the snort comes out more as a sneeze.)

But you _had_ decided to leave your umbrella in favor of lightening the weight of your messenger bag. And if only you had hurried to the bus stop instead of walking then, maybe, you would’ve caught the earlier bus. Then, maybe, you wouldn’t be all waterlogged and sneezing and muttering curses beneath your breath.

 _Maybe_.

You couldn’t even excuse your earlier action as ‘admiring the view’ since there wasn’t much of a view to take in. The shortest route from SFIT to the closest bus stop was flanked by high building after high building, and the sky was a foreboding shade of gray that didn’t really catch your eye.

No, you had been staring at your soul mark.

Much like you are doing now, as you stand in the center of the puddle your dripping clothes had created.

The words are tattooed onto your left wrist in a loopy, elegant cursive that looks more like it belongs on the cover of a wedding invitation and not on your skin. Just six little words colored black and staring up at you innocently. As if they weren’t placed there by some supernatural force just to mess up your life. _I think you fell for me_ is engraved into the backs of your eyelids the same way it is engraved on your wrist. Your soulmate must be one heck of a person to have the gall to say this to you right away.

(You sneeze again; a small, high-pitched thing that elicits the interest of some schoolmates long enough for them to give your sideways glances. You don’t notice that one of them takes longer to look away.)

Earlier, when you were walking to the bus stop, you felt… _weird_. Your stomach was a mess of nerves, jumbled and alive with excitement. And, worst of all, your heart was racing, boring a hole in your chest and ready to leave you behind. But this little bout of excitement told you to ‘slow down’ rather than ‘hurry up’.

This made you curious and hopeful, for some reason. You were waiting for something to happen. Something big. Something life-changing.

Something _important_.

You scoff, rolling your eyes and pulling your sleeve lower to cover the soul mark. You aren’t going to obsess over your soulmate, whoever they are. It had already distracted you enough that day and there are more pressing matters for you to think about. Like, for example, how long it would take you to get home with this weather and this godforsaken traffic jam getting in your way. There’s a cup of ramen noodles and a dissertation waiting for you at home, and everyone knows that SFIT wouldn’t give up one day of schooling just because of bad weather. You sneeze twice and a schoolmate near you wordlessly offers some tissues; you accept them from him with a smile.

Covering your nose and mouth with the tissue, you push up onto your tiptoes and look over the heads and shoulders of your fellow SFIT students to check if the traffic seemed to be easing up. With a jolt of elation, you get a glimpse of the car in front lurching forward and your bus doesn’t take long to start moving either. You smile and think that at least there’s _some_ progress… then it happens.

The bus comes to a sudden halt and time decides to stop and all the breath is knocked out of you and the ground is racing racing racing towards you as you reach out to grasp anything to stop your fall. “Oh _fuck_!” You squeak, eyes closing on reflex.

Then, you’re spinning but _not_ falling, strangely enough.

Your right hand is holding onto either a jacket or a shirt as far as you know, and there is something around your waist and another thing holding your free hand.

You brave opening your eyes and, when you do, you feel _mortified_. Because it’s the guy – a guy, a very attractive guy, a very attractive guy who is _smiling_ at you despite the situation – who gave you tissues and he’s caught you in a dip, as if you two had been dancing all this time.

You flounder for a reply, but it’s not necessary.

“I think you fell for me.” He laughs, loud and clear and without regrets. When you’re back on your own two feet, it registers that people are actually applauding his comment.

And, as they clap and someone even wolf-whistles, you get a good look at him. He’s tall and brown-eyed, with broad shoulders and a laugh that echoes long after he’s stopped laughing. There’s a baseball cap – featuring a well-known baseball team, one you’re a bit of a fan of – atop his dark head of hair and you think that _yeah, we would get along_. You look down and find that his hand’s still holding onto yours and you’re finding it difficult to swallow.

Somehow, you manage. “Well, I’d guess that’s an easy thing for me to do.” You say as the applause dies down. The man’s attention never wavers from you. “Seeing as I’m your soulmate and everything.”

He blinks once. Twice. Then he smiles, all casual and charming and you are uncomfortably aware of your heart beating in your chest.

 _This is it, isn’t it?_ You direct your question to your heart. _This is what you’re excited about._

“May I?” He asks like a gentleman asking for a last dance, nodding his head to your left hand. You nod, because if you had replied with anything but a yes, it would’ve felt wrong. He turns both your hands over, exposing your wrist. Exposing your brand.

When you look back at your soulmate, you notice his ear tips are colored pink and his eyes are a little wider than you remember. You actually laugh at this, easing up and feeling the tension in your shoulders dissipate. “You look more flustered about this whole soulmate business than you are about catching me in a dip.” You tell him, not insultingly.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just that,” He palms the back of his neck and glances around. You are vaguely aware of the audience you both have, the other bus patrons surreptitiously listening in though their gazes are locked onto the traffic in front. “With the mark I have, I don’t have a clue who my soulmate is unless they tell me.” He shows you his soul mark in turn. There it is, etched in the same loopy cursive just like yours. “I’m pretty used to false alarms by now.”

 _Fuck_ was a very common mark to get, believe it or not.

“How cliché…” You mutter without thinking. “Those are horrible first words. Your soulmate must have some messed up sense of humor.”

“If she does, then I think we’ll get along just fine.” He laughs again and you feel like making him laugh wouldn’t be such a bad hobby. “I don’t even know her name yet.”

“[Y/N] [L/N].” You extend a hand for him to shake. “And you are…?”

He slips his hand into yours, palm rough and warm against yours. “Tadashi. Tadashi Hamada.”


End file.
